


Short Kurtty Stories

by danke_rose



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Other characters throughout, Sexual Situations, Short Stories, kurtty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danke_rose/pseuds/danke_rose
Summary: Short stories
Relationships: Kitty Pryde/Kurt Wagner
Comments: 44
Kudos: 15





	1. Playing Along

**Author's Note:**

> I have a bunch of short stories and as I edit my way through them, I think I'll put them here. Some are cheesy and some are cute and some are sexy. They'll all be here.
> 
> I do not consent to having my works hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A silly game on the porch with teammates leads to a date leads to something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for a brief adult situation at the end and adult conversation.

Another mission was in the books, and the team was relaxing on the patio with drinks, the late summer evening still warm, even after the sun had set. Alison had her feet propped up on the deck rail next to Kurt, who was perched there rather precariously, Kitty thought, considering how many beers he'd had already. She was in a deck chair across the cooler from him, and the rest of the team had pulled up chairs as well—Logan, Rogue, Bobby, St. John, and Ororo. Kitty noticed that Ororo and Logan kept glancing at one another somewhat surreptitiously.

Piotr walked out with another six pack and a case of soda, and set them into the cooler. Logan immediately opened a new one, then handed one to Alison when she asked.

“Do you think the villains are getting hotter?” Jubilee asked.

“They all seem about the same temperature to me,” St. John said.

Jubilee swatted at St. John's arm. “No, but I mean, just look at this lady from today. She was, objectively, totally hot. And the guy from that last big heist was, too, and that couple before that. It's like the villains aren't ugly monsters any more.”

“Now, now,” Kurt began.

“I know, Kurt, that's not what I mean.”

“She's got a point,” Logan grunted. “Scarlotta was damn easy on the eyes, but she ain't the first to use her looks to try 'n fool people.”

Ororo sent him an icy glare that Kitty didn't miss, and she flicked her eyes to Kurt, who also noticed. He hopped off his place on the railing and made his way over to Kitty's chair, and stood behind her, leaning over the back.

“She looked average to me,” Ororo said coldly.

“We ain't talkin' about datin' these people,” Logan replied, holding Ororo's gaze long enough that she rolled her eyes at him.

“We should though,” Bobby said.

“What?” Alison turned in her chair to look over her shoulder.

“Y'know, like a drinking game. Which villain would you date? We know some of us have done it already.” He cast pointed glances at Rogue and Kurt.

“Be careful,” Rogue cautioned.

“I wasn't judging! Just having fun.”

“No way. I'm not playing,” Ororo said, her history with Dracula—albeit against her will—was a painful memory.

“We should be asking about the good guys, Bobby,” St. John said. “If you weren't with me, who would you date? Assuming you could date anyone?”

“Oh, man, that's not fair. Okay, probably Warren.”

“Yeah. Me too,” St. John said, grinning at Bobby. “He's hot.”

“He is,” Alison conceded, “But I like Thor.”

“Oh, good one,” Jubilee agreed enthusiastically. “I always thought Captain America was good looking, too.”

“I ain't listenin' to talk about the damn Avengers, either,” Logan grunted. “Play your game with people we actually like.”

“Fine,” Jubilee said, “Scott Summers.”

“What?” Alison turned fully around in her chair. “No way. He is not hotter than Piotr.”

Piotr, against the wall, turned bright red. Kitty shrank farther into her chair, and she thought Kurt's fingers dusting over her shoulder was probably no accident.

“What about you, Ororo?” Alison said, turning to the weather goddess.

She sat straight up, took a sip of her wine, and said, “It's no secret I've had an interest in several of our teammates.” She looked directly at Kurt.

“We're talking about hotness, not dating potential,” Jubilee reminded her.

“Hm. Warren is an attractive man.”

Alison rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone like that guy?” She tossed back the last of her beer. “Piotr hasn't picked. Who's the hottest, Piotr?”

“I'm not playing,” he said.

“Aw, come on, it's all in fun,” Alison prodded.

He blushed again, and finally conceded to play along. “Ororo has always been beautiful to me.”

Kitty was both relieved and disappointed. Kurt's grip on her shoulder was definitely intentional, and she patted his hand in acknowledgment.

Piotr looked at Logan. “What about you?”

“Same. “Ro's gorgeous. No doubt.”

Jubilee glanced around at the group. “You guys haven't said anything,” she said, and Kitty blinked.

“Oh, I don't know,” she stammered.

“You used to think it was Piotr,” Jubilee said.

Alison chuckled. “Probably still does. What about you, Kurt?”

“An impossible question,” he said, “For all my teammates are equally beautiful.”

“That's a shit answer, Elf. If I had to play, you do, too,” Logan grunted as he chewed his cigar.

“I don't think games like this are fair,” he said. “We shouldn't be judging our friends like this.”

Alison looked him square in the eye and said, “It's Amanda.”

“She's not on our side any more, Alison,” Logan said gruffly.

Kurt's voice was tense. “As I said, I don't like this.”

“Aw, come on, Kurt, how 'bout just tell us who you'd wanna date?” Alison wheedled.

Kitty felt him shaking his head. “ _Nein_.”

“What about Kitty? You ever think about dating her? You guys are so close anyway,” Alison said, eyes sparkling when she saw how uncomfortable she was making him.

Kitty spoke up instead. “Nope. Now let it go.”

“Wait, why not? You guys have seriously never even thought about it?” Jubilee piped up.

“I'm not his type, Jubes. Kurt likes the gorgeous types, not mousy little brainiacs.” She couldn't see his face, but the others could, and it was reflected back at her on all of theirs. “What? It's true. Right Kurt? You like, y'know, models and stuff.”

“Uh... _ja_...sure, _Kätzchen_. Nothing wrong with appreciating God's handiwork.”

Silence stretched for long seconds until Bobby spoke up again, “I'm beat. Night all,” he said, and St. John followed him in. One by one the rest made their way inside, until Kitty and Kurt were alone on the patio. He pulled a chair over.

“Wow. Never imagined I was so good at killing conversations,” she said, looking glum.

“I don't think it was you. It's just late. And I wouldn't play along.”

“I didn't even get a chance to refuse.”

He chuckled. “No, you didn't.”

“Hey,” she said, patting his hand, “Sorry if I got that wrong.”

He shrugged. “It makes me look like a hypocrite.”

Kitty considered, and then agreed. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

“I don't think I have a type, _Katzchen_.”

“I already said I was sorry.”

“Yes, I know. I was just elaborating.”

“That whole conversation was just weird.”

“It was definitely uncomfortable. The truth is,” he said, shifting, “I have given some thought to the possibility of something beyond friendship between us, but I never pursued it. You were with Pete, and...”

“Really?” She turned in her seat. “Me? Why in the world?”

“Why? Well...” he stammered, “Well, we get along and...and you're very smart and very pretty and...and all of that.” He paused to force a laugh. “Don't worry, I know you aren't interested. Fear not, _meine Freundin_.”

“Who said I wasn't?”

“Ach, well, I just assumed...” he fidgeted with his beer. “You...would be interested?”

“Sure. Why _wouldn't_ I?” She smiled warmly.

“I didn't know...”

She sighed. “Yeah. Well. Neither did I. I mean, I didn't know you thought about it.”

“I did.”

“You think I'm pretty?”

He looked up. “ _Ja_. I think you're beautiful.”

“I think you're handsome.”

“ _Nein_ , don't say that, there's no need—”

“I'm not just saying it.” She touched his face reverently. “You are. Even with the fangs.”

“I suppose a first date is in order, then. Where to?”

She held out her hands. “How about right here?”

“ _Nein_ , that won't do. I'm already drunk and it's past midnight. I'll take you somewhere nice,” he said.

“If you insist.”

“All right. All right then,” he said, still nervous and unsure. “We'll talk about this more, then, tomorrow. I'll fetch you at six.” He halted. “That is, unless you have plans, or you don't—”

“That'll work. It's fine. Relax.”

“I don't think I will. There is too much at stake.”

She cocked a brow at him.

“I don't have a good reputation. I've made a lot of mistakes. But...if I mess this up...I will lose everything that matters to me.”

Kitty grabbed his hand and pressed the back of his fingers to her face. “We've been friends for a long time. I know all about those mistakes and that reputation. Unless you're hiding something deep and dark from me, I don't think you should worry too much. I know you, remember?”

He nodded silently.

“Okay. So take me to dinner, and then we'll decide. Either way, I won't leave you.”

Another silent nod.

“Are you okay?”

“ _Ja_. I think perhaps I should get some sleep.”

“Me too. G'night Fuzzy,” she said, and she kissed his cheek as she rose.

“You took me to the pizza parlor?” she teased.

“I—I didn't want to—”

“I _love_ the pizza parlor, Kurt. This is perfect. You don't need to impress me.”

He laughed uneasily, checked his image inducer for the hundredth time, and followed her back to a booth in the corner. The manager and wait staff knew him, so once they were safely in the farthest booth, he could turn the _verdammt_ thing off. He didn't want to be fake with her.

They ordered the pizza and drinks and then sat in awkward silence.

Finally he said, “So this isn't a very elaborate prank?”

Kitty frowned. “That's not very nice.”

“No, it's not. I just...I can't help it, Kitty, I never saw a hint from you and now...and it's me, and I'm...”

“I can hide things when I want to. I was a kid. Then you were with Amanda. Then Cerise. Then Amanda. So, I figured I wasn't on your radar. Didn't match the...the image in your head. So I moved on. Pete came along and he was admittedly not what I was looking for at the time, but it was a good learning experience, if nothing else.”

“You know why I was with Amanda.”

“I do, but I didn't then. No one did. She fooled us all.” Kitty took a sip of her soda. She knew it was still a touchy subject. But it had to be addressed.

“ _Ja_.” Kurt leaned back as the waitress delivered the pizza, sliding it onto the raised tray and cutting their first slices. When she left, he said, “You were too young. Then you were with Pete.”

“You know, I think we just had to get the timing right. I think all that other stuff was in the way for a reason, and I think now, maybe we're both finally ready for something to go right.”

“And you think it will?”

“Of course.”

“Don't be so confident. I have my quirks, you know.”

“Yes, I do. I've seen quite a few of them.”

“But you don't know them all, _liebchen_. You don't know, for instance, how cuddlesome I can be.”

“That's not a word.”

“I know. It's invented. Cuddly and meddlesome. Amanda used to say.”

“She's an idiot.”

He raised his eyes.

“It clearly means cuddly and awesome.”

“See, this is why I love you,” he said, and nearly choked on his pizza.

“I love you, too.”

“I shouldn't have said that. It's only our first date.”

“Kurt, don't be stupid. We're practically married.”

He coughed. Kitty just laughed.

“You've never heard them say that about us? That we're so close it's like we're an old married couple. They aren't wrong. Think about it.” She waited.

“All right. I suppose you have a point. So if that's the case, what does that mean about our date?”

“I think we should count each year of friendship as a date. So that makes this our _sixth_ date.”

“Is kissing allowed on the sixth date?” he asked.

“It is. Maybe a few other things as well.”

“You are trying to kill me by choking me,” he said after coughing up another inhaled piece of cheese.

“No. Just giving you incentive.”

“Incentive for what?”

“To finish eating.”

“That's very tempting, but perhaps it would be wiser to take things a little more slowly?”

Clothes littered the floor as Kitty wrapped her legs around Kurt's waist, matching his thrusts with the rocking of her hips. Her hair was damp, scattered around her on his bed, and his lips had left pink marks up and down her neck and across her shoulders and breasts. She gasped as he filled her again and she clenched. She was close, but he was closer, and with a strangled cry against her shoulder he came. She tried to pull him closer, but he reached between them instead and stroked her until she was writhing in ecstasy and crying out his name.

“So much for taking things slowly,” she said, catching her breath with her head pillowed on his shoulder.

“We made it to the sixth date,” he said wryly, and she laughed.

“Only took us five years.”

He leaned over her and said, “I was serious before. I love you.”

“So was I. I love you, too.”


	2. Burn Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking care of some minor injuries leads to a massage leads to you know what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, hell, this is too sexy not to post. Sex y'all.  
> Rated E

Face down in the middle of his bed, he sighs into the blankets as Kitty smears burn cream on his shoulders. He doesn't even move when she gets up and washes her hands, but he's still surprised when she gets back on the bed and digs her thumbs along his spine. It feels good, and she starts working on the rest of his back, the places that stupid creature didn't burn, and he feels the tension gradually seeping out. He loves the feel of her hands on him, and he savors this moment. It's not often she's so affectionate. He feels limp and weak and her touch has become softer, more of a caress now, than a massage. She drags the flat of her hand down his back, alongside his spine, all the way to the waistband of his shorts.

Don't stop, he thinks, but says nothing because this is Kitty, and she doesn't see him that way. Her hand stops at the waistband and she starts again, smoothing the short fuzz down as she moves from just below his shoulders, over the dip in his lower back, and again to his shorts. Her fingers dally in the fuzz at his lower back, scratching lightly to the skin below, and it feels wonderful. He sighs again, and murmurs, “ _Sehr_ _gut_.”

His tail is lying between his legs, motionless and as limp as the rest of him as she continues her gentle ministrations. He's startled when her hands shift to the backs of his legs, but he settles again quickly, deft fingers putting pressure on muscles he rarely gives any thought to. Her fingers slide beneath the edge of his shorts, and he doesn't even care. He'd take them off if he could.

Her hand slides up as far as she can go, which is almost to the curve of his buttocks, and now he feels something stir that is less than soothing, and much more intriguing. She uses both hands on one leg, smoothing up the sides of his thigh and then gently scratching back down. He lets out a soft moan of pleasure, he can't help it. He doesn't know if anyone has ever touched him like this before and his brain is not working properly any longer.

She switches to the other leg, repeats her caresses, and then another shock as she draws a single finger from the base of his tail all the way to the spade tip. He shivers. She does it again and then leans over his back. He can feel the warmth of her body and her soft sweet breath as she whispers in his ear, “Can I take your tail out?” She might as well have asked if she can take his penis out for what it does to him.

“ _Ja_. Do whatever you like.”

And she kisses the side of his neck, and the back of it where the curls start, and then all the way down his spine. He's not relaxed anymore, not in the same way. She whispers again, this time from the vicinity of his backside, “I want to make you feel good.”

His cock twitches against the mattress. “You are,” he says, voice muffled by the bedspread.

She easily phases his shorts so she can free his tail, and then she pushes them down, just a little, and scratches at the base of his tail. He presses his face into the mattress and groans. “Good?” she asks, pausing, and he can only groan back a muffled “mmmm-hmmmm” and she does it some more.

He's so hard now it hurts, and he has to grip the sheets to keep from reaching for himself for some relief. When she speaks again, he can hear a note of playful teasing, and his mind reels. “You're tense again,” she says, and does not stop playing at the base of his tail.

“I think you know why,” he says, and if she doesn't then she needs to leave, now.

“Yes,” she says and kisses his back again. “I can help with that, too.”

“Oh, _Gott_ , _Kätzchen_ please,” he begs, and she makes a sound that is not a laugh as she slips her fingers below the waistband of his shorts. She teases him mercilessly, letting her hands slide further under the elastic before phasing the material and pulling it free of his body. Her hands cup his rear, her thumbs tracing the curve where it meets his thigh, and he grits his teeth, and then her fingers slide between his thighs and brush against places she's never touched before, and he comes on the bed.

She holds still while he shudders, then lays her cheek on the small of his back, rubbing light circles over one buttock. “I wasn't quite finished,” she says.

“How much do you think I can take, love?” he says, a little breathless. She presses a few kisses into the sweaty fuzz on his back and stretches her body along his, careful of the burns. And he realizes she's naked. He has no idea when she took her clothes off, but it really doesn't matter. He can't believe what's happening, he can't believe what she's been doing to him, but now he really wants to roll over and look at her. And touch her. And make love to her like he's always dreamed of doing.

He pushes with one arm and she lets him roll away. His breath catches and at first he can only look at her in confusion.

She blushes as he takes her in, smooth creamy skin, tinted pink at her nipples, which harden under his gaze. She's thin, muscular, with dancer's slim legs and a small thatch of curls at the junction of her thighs. He reaches for her waist and pulls her close to seal his lips over hers, drawing her lower lip into his mouth. She's sweet and warm and her hand moves over his arm as she hooks one leg over his hip. He reaches between her legs and she's dripping wet. His cock leaps to life again and he moans into her mouth, even as she's pulling away and gasping.

His fingers trace delicate flesh, teasing at the smooth little bud before dipping inside. She's so wet, his fingers are coated and he wants to bury himself inside her so badly. The ache begins to build again, low and insistent, as he slips his fingers in and out of her, rubbing his thumb against the place that makes her whimper and moan. Her grip on his arms is like steel, and he nibbles her neck. She arches it but he's not sure she really notices what he's doing there. Her body flutters around him and she sobs, clenching around his hand.

“I want you,” he says, tracing the edge of her ear with his tongue.

“Please,” she moans, and he doesn't wait, he's inside her in one motion, buried to the hilt, and she spreads her legs wider and grabs his butt.

He slides out slowly, and she's almost crying, pushes back in and she arches her back. He hasn't even touched her breasts yet, and he takes one in his hand and rubs his thumb over the nipple. But his need is too great, and she's too far gone as well, and he has to move, faster, harder, has to...just...

He comes, his whole body shuddering as waves pass through him and he spills himself into her. He puts his hand between them and rubs against her, rocking his hips even as he feels himself slipping out, until she cries out his name and shakes and clenches down so hard he thinks she'll break herself.

He lays down beside her, and it takes her a long time to come back to herself. He strokes her hair and her belly, no intent to arouse, just comfort. Her eyes finally flicker open and she turns to face him. Her cheeks are flushed and she lowers her eyes.

“What brought that on?” he says gently, still petting her.

“I don't know.”

“I ask because I'd like to know for next time.”

“Next time?”

“There is a next time, I hope?”

“Yes.”

“Many of them?”

“As many as you want.”

“I would like all of them.”

He moves his arm to pull her close to his chest, and she sighs. Her fingers scratch lightly in the fur on his chest until he puts a hand over hers. “I believe that's how this all started.”

She lifts mischievous eyes to his, and he says, “Ah, then do continue.”


	3. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kurt is unable to bring Cerise back from space, he arrives home to find that Kitty hasn't done the job he left her to do, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T for grief

Kurt stormed into Braddock Manor, angry at the world. Cerise had been left behind with Lilandra, and he had returned home without her. He feared for her safety even with the Shi'Ar ruler's assurances she would not be executed or harmed. His chest ached with frustration and the pain of loss. He might never see Cerise again, and if he did, it would be years from now. He closed his hands in fists and continued through the hall and past the living room where Kitty had cut off his cast after Brian broke his leg.

Brian. Someone else he might never see again. Lost to the timestream, leaving his girlfriend Meggan in a fugue state. Kitty was supposed to have been watching her while he and his team were in space attempting to rescue Cerise, but according to the note he found in the kitchen, she hadn't bothered to stick around. She'd left Feron behind, of all people, and jetted off to New York to visit the X-Men. He'd never thought she'd be one to ignore him. He never imagined he'd have to actually give her an order, rather than a request, but now he wished he had.

He reached the steps and took them two at a time, anger fueling his need to move. At the top he turned and passed several bedrooms before reaching his own. One of the rooms was where Alysande Stuart had been brutally murdered by Jamie Braddock. The other room was Kitty's.

She was there, in her room, looking out the window. His voice sounded harsh, even to himself, when he called out to her.

“What are you doing?”

She didn't move.

Kurt strode into the room, barely noticing the suitcase half emptied on her bed. “Why didn't you stay here with Meggan like I told you to? You left Feron to take care of Meggan? Of all the people, Kitty, I thought I could count on you.”

“Shut up, Kurt.”

For a moment, he was taken aback, but something in her tone made him stop.

“Leave me alone,” she said, her back still to him as she leaned on the window.

Something was wrong. The anger went out of him in an instant, and he looked around her room for a clue as to her state. He noticed then the suitcase, and then the Bamf doll. He stared at it a long time, trying to figure out why it didn't seem to belong here.

And then he remembered.

“Kätzchen,” he said, stepping closer and picking the Bamf doll up as he passed it. “I'm so sorry. I am so sorry.” He felt like a fool, believing she'd shirk her job for no good reason, and yet that was exactly his earlier assumption. He touched her shoulder hesitantly and she lifted red-rimmed eyes to his. Dark circles underneath told him she hadn't slept enough. She was pale, except for her nose and lips, pink from crying. Above her eyes there were tiny purple dots that, upon closer inspection, must be from crying so hard. He felt like an ass.

“Don't you want to yell at me?”

“No, _schatzi_ , no, and I'm sorry for doubting you. I am a fool.”

“She's dead, Kurt.” Kitty looked into his eyes, and then crumpled against him. “She died in my arms and she's dead.”

He remembered how she cried when the X-Men were thought slain in Dallas. Night after night, he'd hear her in her room across the hall of Moira's infirmary ward, and he did not have the strength to get up and go to her to comfort her. She would not come to him.

Now she did, wrapping trembling arms around his neck. How selfish he felt, mourning a woman who was not dead, but alive and well, when his dear friend had just lost her once-closest friend, her roommate. She didn't cry long this time, composing herself after a short outburst, but not leaving the circle of his arms.

“I tried to tell you before you left,” she said, reaching through him for a tissue.

Another oversight. Cerise had clouded his judgment, and looking back now, he could see it. He tried to think of anything to say to her that could make it right, but there was nothing. “I'm sorry.”

She put a hand on his chest suddenly and lifted her head. “Did you bring her home?”

“Alas, no.”

“Oh god, no...”

Her eyes welled up again and he quickly explained her commuted sentence as she nodded against his shoulder. It seemed now so much more important to take care of his friend than himself, and that alone lifted the weight of anger from his shoulders. “Have you eaten today?”

Another nod.

“When?”

She shrugged. “I don't remember.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, and then suggested tea when she shrugged in response. “Come on, we'll go down together. We'll get through all of this together. Like we always do.”


	4. Don't Be Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending days trapped in a cave, things escalate.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for Sexual situations

They have been stuck in a cave on the side of a mountain for two days, supplies dwindling, waiting to be picked up. The storm blowing around them is too much to fly the Blackbird through, and Storm herself is unavailable, being in Wakanda for business. So they wait and hope their food will last.

They spend the days telling stories and jokes and annoying one another, and the nights curled next to each other so they won't freeze. Kurt hasn't enjoyed the company of anyone beside him in the night for quite a long time, and because it's Kitty, it's even sweeter. She smells sweet, too, in spite of their days without bathing. She makes little noises when she dreams, he discovers, and when he puts his arm over her, she holds it next to her like a comfort. He lets her put her head on his arm, and so he sleeps on his side most of the night and wakes with a sore hip.

The next night he sleeps on the other side. He stuffs one of the backpacks under his head but the ground is still hard. On the third night, she's not sleeping. She's chewing her lip like she does when she's nervous, and she's staring at the ceiling of the little cave, which is too small for them to stand upright in. They do lots of stretching and try to move around as much as they can, but it isn't easy for Kitty to walk hunched over like that. It doesn't bother Kurt at all.

When she finally starts talking, she keeps her voice soft and quiet, as if she's trying not to wake anyone else up, though they are alone in the cave. She wonders if the windstorm will ever end, if they will have enough food, and if the others finished the mission without them. He reassures her, equally quiet, pets her hair. She's got her head in the crook of his shoulder, both of them lying on their backs, with the pack under his head. She asks him if he gets lonely, and he isn't sure what she means. Does he miss Amanda and Cerise, she explains, and continues before he can answer her, to tell him that she doesn't miss Pete or Piotr, but she does sometimes wish she wasn't alone.

He tells her she is not alone, he will always be there for her. He doesn't miss his ex-girlfriends, but he understands the feeling of aloneness and he hopes one day he will be with a woman who truly loves him. She tips her head up a little and kisses his cheek, and tells him she loves him and he'll always have her, too. He hopes it's true. He can't imagine being stuck here with anyone else, and reaches for her hand in the dark, in which she can see nothing but he can see everything. He can see the outline of her body, where her hips curve and her slim waist dips in. He can see the shape of her legs where she has them draped over his for warmth, and he can see the gentle slope of her breasts rising and falling with each breath she takes. She's beautiful, he thinks, and he knows she disagrees. He's stopped telling her because it only irritates her and she denies it.

She is toying with his fingers in the dark. She can't see them, he knows this. She's fitting her fingers between his, testing out the different ways they line up. He wishes he could take his gloves off and feel the soft skin of her hands against his, and after a moment's hesistation, he does. He tells himself he wants to know how cold she is, but really, he wants to touch her. She sighs, a soft sound in the dark, and when he laces his fingers between hers again, she holds his between both of her hands. She likes how soft he is, she tells him. She falls asleep with his hand clasped between hers, and in the morning, the Blackbird has come to take them home.

She goes to her room and he goes to his, and it is like separating hook and loop. He takes a shower, long and hot and steamy, and dresses in casual clothes. He is not going on any missions tonight. He's on the couch in his suite when she knocks and he lets her in. She sits with him, curls her knees against her chest, and leans against him. He doesn't think she's watching the Cary Grant special, and he isn't either, not anymore. Now he's listening to her breathing and noticing the way she's playing with the buttons on his shirt. He's left it open halfway, alone in his room there's no one to tease him about it and he doesn't bother. Now he wishes he had buttoned it to his neck, because she's tickling the fur underneath every time her fingers move. And she's playing with the button below the first one now. And the one below that. And his heart rate is rising and he's forcing himself to stare at Cary Grant's hat. It isn't working and he covers her hand with his to stop her, but she looks at him and he can see it in her eyes. He never noticed before, but he does now. She blinks and it's gone, and she's blushing and stammering apologies and trying to get up and leave. He asks her to stay, and he means all night, and somehow she understands because she touches his face with her slim fingers, follows the curve of his jaw to his ear, and he shivers when she traces the point.

She stops and looks at him. She's waiting for something, and he tells her that he loves her, that he's always loved her, that his heart beats for her, and once it's out, he can't take it back. Her eyes are wide and she's silent and motionless as he sinks into the pit he has created for himself, until the corners of her mouth start to lift a little and her faces goes soft and she cradles his jaw. He prays he isn't wrong as he leans down to touch her lips with his, and he isn't wrong. She melds into him, fits her body to his like a puzzle piece, holds him close while she lets him taste her.

He kisses her so long and so thoroughly that there can be no doubt of his feelings and his hopes for the night, and when her hands start to move over his chest and under the shirt, past the buttons, he realizes this is what she came here for, too. She whispers words in his ear that confirm this and he thinks he's gone mad, because this is his _K_ _ä_ _tzchen_ and she has never ever looked at him like this or touched him like this or wanted him like this.

He doesn't know when she took his shirt off and he doesn't care because she's taken hers off, too, and he can't stop touching her skin. He doesn't know when she took off his pants either, because she's taken hers off, too, and he can't stop touching her skin and she's touching his skin, too, in that place where there is no fur and her hands feel the most delicious and he aches for her to never stop. But he isn't selfish, he touches her, too, until her body is undulating beneath him and trembling with every stroke and she's crying his name like a mantra. He slides into her easily and she inhales as if she's never taken a breath, and he can't move for whole seconds because he's dizzy with the feel of her surrounding him so perfectly, like she was made just for him. He slides out again and she sobs, her hands gripping at his hips until he moves into her again. And again, and again, until she's rocking her entire body with his and they are both moaning and her movements are stiff and then she shudders. He cries her name against her neck and comes, too, then rests his head on her breasts and tries to remember his own name.

She's petting him, he realizes, and lifts his head. She's smiling at him and he smiles back, hopeful that this is not the end of things for them. Then he realizes what she's saying, that she isn't lonely any more, and her heart beats for him and she has always loved him.


	5. Just Call Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While in France, a woman flirts with Kurt. His friends encourage him to call her. Will she be the one he's been looking for, or will the team get a big surprise when he brings her back to the hotel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M

Her name was Marie-Hélène, and she lived in a tiny flat in Paris. Kurt and the team were there on business and, while sitting outside a little café without his image inducer on, she approached him. Logan, Piotr, and Ororo all stifled grins as she pointedly looked him over, wrote down her number, and handed it to him. When her hand brushed the fur of his fingers, she smiled and said in French, “So soft. Very nice.” Kurt thanked her in French and she left.

Later at the hotel, Logan encouraged him to call her.

“Just talk to her. You speak French, see what she wants. She gave you her number for a reason,” Logan said, chewing the end of an unlit cigar and grinning.

Kurt wasn't sure he wanted to call the woman. Sure she was pretty, but that didn't mean much. He'd enjoyed the company of pretty women before, only to be hurt when they weren't really interested in him after all.

“Just call,” Logan said, “What's the harm?” Piotr and Ororo agreed.

“Go on one date. Maybe she's not like the others. You won't know unless you go out with her.” It was always the same arguments. Give her a chance. Maybe she won't be like the others.

Finally annoyed at their pestering, he grabbed his phone and went to the balcony, shutting the door a little too hard behind him. He held the slip of paper with Marie-Hélène's number on it and stared at his phone. Then he dialed.

Kurt's friends watched him from the living area of the hotel suite.

“He is smiling,” Ororo said.

“Of course he is. He'll take her out and probably get laid,” Logan said.

“You should not talk about your _tovarisch_ that way.”

“He won't deny it if you ask him,” Logan said, fixing Piotr with a level gaze.

Kurt hung up and the three friends pretended they hadn't been watching. Kurt came inside, a small smile on his face and a bounce in his step.

“See? What'd I tell ya?” Logan said, leaning back on the sofa.

Kurt paused at the door of his room. “ _Ja_ , it seems all I needed to do was make a phone call.”

“Are you going out with her tonight?” Ororo asked.

“Tomorrow night,” Kurt said.

  
  


During the day they worked, but as soon as they returned to the hotel for the evening, Kurt hurried to clean up and change. He was nervous, which he normally wasn't before a date. Something about this one felt promising. He was excited, for the first time in a long time.

“Where you takin' her?” Logan asked as Kurt bustled out of the room.

“Dinner and who knows?”

Logan smiled knowingly. “Have fun, Elf.”

Kurt cocked his head and put his hands on his hips. “I think I will.”

  
  


She met him at the café they'd chosen as a meeting spot. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked stunning and he told her so.

She blushed and he offered his arm, like a proper gentleman. They strolled down the street, talking quietly.

“Here it is,” Kurt said as they walked up to the restaurant. He'd chosen a place that was nice but not too fancy or pricey. Somewhere they could sit and talk without the hustle and bustle of a café.

She sat across from him, her face alight, one foot rubbing casually against his ankle. He didn't stop her.

“I'm really glad you called me,” she said as the food was brought to the table.

Kurt's heart fluttered with nerves and excitement. “ _Ja_ , me too.” He cut into his steak. “I almost didn't.”

“I understand.”

They talked and ate, and after the plates were taken away and the staff was hovering, waiting to give their table to someone else, Kurt suggested they go for a walk. She held his hand and Kurt felt warmth spreading through his chest at her casual affection. Maybe tonight would be different after all.

They stopped at a fountain in the middle of an open space in the street. It was dark, with a sliver of moon and few stars visible because of the lights of the city. It was still beautiful, and romantic. She shivered, and Kurt dared to put his arms around her. She pressed closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

Things had gone so well, in fact, that he ventured to take another risk. “May I kiss you?” he said, fighting the tremor in his voice.

She tipped her head up and touched his face. “Yes.”

He pressed against her lips, warm and soft, parting slightly when he ran the tip of his tongue along them. Time seemed to slow and stop as they kissed, bodies moving closer. Her fingers drifted down his neck, dancing along the line of his collar and down the front of his shirt to the first button. Kurt sighed and wrapped his tail around her bare leg.

“What would you like to do next?” she said, and he was sure he knew what she was asking. The way her hand lingered on his chest, they way she watched his face and stared into his eyes, the way her hips moved against his.

“Do you want to come back to the hotel with me? The team is there...”

“I don't mind if they're there. I'm not ashamed to be with you.”

All his nerves seemed to be on fire. She was beautiful, and so sweet, and surely this was the woman he'd needed in his life. Surely tonight would be different. He kissed her again, his arms holding her tight as she whimpered encouragement and enjoyment. She ran her hand down his back, all the way to his thigh. Could there be any question now?

“Shall we walk?” he asked, forcing his lips away from her skin far enough to speak.

“Well,” she breathed as he flicked his tongue along her neck, sending shivers along her spine. “We can't stay here.”

He gave her one more kiss and took her hand. They walked briskly to the hotel, and once in the elevator, he turned to her, hands on her waist.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.”

At the room, he swiped his key card and held his breath. Of course they were all in the living space watching television. A French news program was on, interviewing a concerned scientist who had choice words about another country's president. As one, their mouths dropped open.

“Hello,” she said to the group.

Logan found his voice first. “What the hell?”

“You told me to call, so I did.” Kurt was suddenly very nervous. Logan was protective of Kitty, and Piotr had nearly killed her ex-boyfriend.

“I thought you were gonna call that French chick!”

“I wasn't interested in her,” he said, frowning.

“That's Kitty!” Logan was on his feet now, and Kurt forced himself to stay where he was.

“I'm aware.” This was a mistake. He should have taken her somewhere else, another hotel, or the Blackbird. Anywhere but here.

“Logan,” Ororo said gently, “I'm hungry and there's a restaurant downstairs. Let's see if they have anything delicious.”

Piotr stood up, his eyes still bouncing from Kitty's face to Kurt's. “ _Da_ , I am also hungry.”

Logan huffed, but followed the others out the door. He stopped near them and kissed Kitty's forehead. “Kurt, you are one sly devil. You better not screw this up.”

Ororo yanked his arm, and he left behind them. When the door finally shut, Kitty let her shoulders sag in relief. Kurt laughed from nerves as she turned into his arms, listening to the pounding of his heart.

“That went better than I expected,” she said.

“ _Ja_ , no one's been gutted or sent to the emergency room.”

She ran her hands down his chest and kissed him just beneath his collar bone. “I don't think you brought me here to visit the team.”

“ _Nein_. Do you still—?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, no uncertainty in her tone. She tugged the hem of his shirt and he lifted her, carrying her into his room.

She scooted up the bed, arms outstretched, and he leaned over her.

He touched her face gently. “I don't want a one night stand with you,” he said, his smile fading.

“Neither do I,” she replied.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Do you really think I'd fly all the way over here if I didn't?”

He smiled again. “Who knows? You're my best friend.”

“Good point.” She put her hand on his back and pulled him down, hooking one leg around his. “Would I be in your bed?”

“No,” he admitted.

“They won't stay down there forever,” she said, combing her fingers through his hair and wiggling beneath him.

“I'm not ashamed to be with you.”

She smiled, and he leaned down to kiss her, content at last.


	6. Wrinkles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short little thing about wrinkles and time and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write something for the 2020 Fluff Defense Force during the outbreak of Covid-19. This is what I've got.  
> Rated G

She knows what wrinkles do to fuzzy skin. They soften them, making sharp lines hazy, so he never looks quite as old as he is. They form around his eyes and mouth from the laughter and smiles of decades of life. He's not as toned as he used to be, and he sleeps more. He doesn't fly on the trapeze but he still enjoys watching, especially their grandchildren, some blue and some pale pink. Some have his eyes and some have hers. None of them exactly like either of them, each of them perfect in their own way. He loves these children, loves them so much she knows he would die for them, just as he once did for all those souls. He still loves her, too, as much or more than he always did. In a few weeks it will be their fiftieth anniversary. She can hardly believe sometimes that she has spent most of her life with this man and would gladly take more years if they would be allotted to them. Her heart no longer races like a mad thing when he looks at her that way, but instead there is a warmth that blooms outward from it. He still kisses her like he's finally come home after being lost. He still holds her hand when they go out, and he still curls his tail around her ankle when he sleeps. Not as tightly as he once did, the arthritis bothers him. His hair is gray, and some of the fuzz on his body is gray, too, which always makes her laugh and tease him. He doesn't mind because he knows, many years of knowing her, that she loves him unconditionally. She loves him more than anyone he's ever known. More than his own mother did, by far, and more than his foster family, more than anyone he can name. He still whispers German in her ear to make her smile or comfort her. He's still the same man she fell in love with over fifty years ago. The wrinkles hardly matter.


	7. Surprise, You're Having a Secret Affair Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt pines for Kitty. They begin a sort of secret affair, until he has to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, this is basically just smut and some fluffy loves stuff. I've been trying to write something--anything--and I've had this laying around a while. So, I messed around with it and hopefully turned it into something worth reading. It's pretty much smut, with a little bit of lovey dovey stuff in it. 
> 
> Takes place at the end of Excalibur when Kitty is an adult.
> 
> Rated very much E

_She's not interested in you_ , he tells himself every night. It doesn't matter how she smiles at him or touches his arm, there's nothing about it that means anything. She's with Pete Wisdom; she's never even considered him as anything but a friend or a mentor. Certainly nothing like a lover.

He thinks of her all the time, in the shower or in bed, and berates himself because it's pure foolishness. He's only setting himself up for more disappointment and pain. Sometimes he thinks she suspects, when she sits so close her leg drapes over his, or when she raises up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, lingering a fraction of a moment too long. When her fingers lay across the back of his neck, flicking into his hair, it makes him ache. He is a good actor; he pretends it's nothing to him.

The team has been struggling, and he decides they all deserve a break. They go out but he stays in, takes beer to his room to watch swashbuckling adventures in the dark. Everyone is stressed, cranky, and tired. They all deserve a fun night out. He wonders if Kitty will bring Pete back to her room, if they'll be loud this time. He's sorry for every time Amanda visited and swore no one could hear them.

He didn't go out with them tonight, unwilling to watch Kitty hanging all over her boyfriend—a man old enough to be her father, who sees her only as the woman she wants to be, not the one she is. He sees nothing soft between them, and he wonders if Wisdom will comfort her when things go wrong, or if he'll tell her to buck up and deal with it, because that's how she presents herself to him. It's only one side of her, though, and Kurt wonders if Wisdom has the wisdom to understand how much more there is to her.

In the dark and quiet of his empty room in the research building, Kurt considers taking off his pants and relieving stress a different way. Even that feels insurmountable when thoughts of Kitty and her lover won't give him any peace. He's surprised when she appears in the open doorway in her pajamas, a faded t-shirt and shorts that might as well not be there. He's grateful he hasn't already gotten started.

“I thought you were out,” he says, putting the beer on his nightstand and muting the television. He's proud of how calm he sounds. Casual. Friendly.

“No,” she says. “I stayed. I thought we could hang out instead. Just the two of us.”

“Ah.” He slides over with a smile and pats the bed beside him, gesturing at the television. “It's pirates.”

“I figured.” She climbs in beside him, sits close. Too close, he can smell her shampoo. It's the deadliest game, wanting her near when her nearness drives him to want her. He won't do a thing without her permission, but he wishes she'd ask him to touch her, kiss her, make love to her. He would. He would give her everything.

He swallows, reaches around her for the beer. She grabs it and hands it to him. “Can I have a sip?”

He hesitates, but hands it back to her. She drinks it, licks her lips, hands him the rest. “It's all right, I guess.”

Kurt balks and pretends to shove her away. “All right? It's the _best_ German beer.”

“This is the best beer?” She laughs, and something in him twists. He loves that sound. She laughs again at his expression and says, “Let me have another taste.”

He does, watching her lips curl around the bottle, wishing they were curling around him instead. Her other hand is on his knee. He wishes it was sliding up his leg, shakes his head. Sloppy to think such things when she's sitting beside him.

“Yeah, I don't like it,” she says, and hands it back. She leans into him, curling up so her knees rest on his thigh. He's patting her back when she speaks again, so softly he's not sure he's heard her correctly.

“I broke up with Pete.”

He moves, needs to see her face. As much as he has disliked the relationship, he knows she'll be upset. There are tears in her eyes, and she presses her face into his shoulder.

“Ach, Kätzchen,” he soothes, his tail setting the beer on the nightstand so his arms are free to hold her. She lets out a small sob, but that's all. He kisses her hair and rests his chin on her head. “It will be all right,” he says, for something to say.

She nods. “I know. It's for the best.”

He kisses her again, he can't help it. Her fingers close around the collar of his nightshirt and she tilts her head up. Her eyes are pink and her lashes wet with tears. One slides down her cheek and he brushes it aside with his thumb.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he says, because he wants to know what happened, but he doesn't want to pry.

She smirks. She knows him too well. “You wanna know why I dumped him?”

He can't quite hide his smile. “I admit I'm curious.”

“He accused me of being in love with you.”

She says it so casually he almost chokes on his own saliva. He doesn't know what to say, and clears his throat to stall. “Oh?”

“Yeah, he said I'd rather be with you than him.”

He wants to say something to her, to comfort her and reassure her that she doesn't need to worry. He won't leave her, and he won't abandon the friendship, even if Pete is jealous. Although she's already broken up with him, so it doesn't matter any more.

“I suppose he doesn't understand our friendship,” Kurt says, praying his voice won't falter and give away the truth—that it is not Kitty who is in love, but him.

“No, he didn't. _Doesn't_. It doesn't matter. He wanted me to quit the team, like that would somehow prove something to him.”

“I assume you didn't.”

“Of course not.” She has stopped crying, but she's still pressed tightly along his side, and he adjusts his arm around her shoulders, leans back a little on the pillows.

His heart aches to say it, but he does, because he loves her so much, he wants her to be happy. “If you want to go with him...”

“No. I don't,” she says, and she sounds almost angry.

Relief surges through him. “I—I'm so glad.”

Her arms go around him, and she's halfway in his lap now. He shifts slightly, wondering if she realizes what she's doing. She must not, she'd never do anything to make him uncomfortable. Never cross the line.

The movie plays on in the background, and gradually she settles her hands at his collar again, her cheek against his shoulder. He doesn't think she's watching the movie, but he lets it play anyway. Her fingers toy with the button at the top of his shirt, not done up. It never is.

“Kurt?” she says, hesitant and small. “Are you in love with Amanda?”

His instinct is to say yes, but it would be a lie. He's thought of this recently, his feelings for his ex-girlfriend, feelings that, at one time, he was confident in. Now, he is just as confident he was wrong. “No,” he says. “I don't think I ever was.”

“How do you know? I mean, how can you be really sure?”

He hesitates again, lets his hand rub her shoulder, feeling the bone there. “I...believe I'm in love with someone else. And it feels different.”

Her shoulders droop. “I guess that would be one way to know.”

She doesn't mention Meggan, but he knows she's probably thinking it. They all assumed at one time that he was in love with her. Brian thought he was having sex with her, but he never did. He's a flirt, not a scoundrel.

Maybe that memory is why he tells Kitty, “It isn't Meggan.”

She stops playing with the button and instead runs one finger through the exposed fur at his neck.

“Cerise?” she says.

He covers her hand and kisses the tips of her fingers. “No.”

When he releases them, she touches his cheek, stroking softly through the fur, tracing his jawline. “Kurt,” she whispers. “Pete wasn't wrong.”

His heart races, his breath catches, and he's drawn to her lips now. Before he knows what she's doing, she leans over, slips her hand behind his neck, and kisses him. Slow. Soft. Closed mouth at first. He kisses her back, and one hand slides into her hair. She's tender and sweet and heavenly, both hands on his face and in his hair, her body flowing over his. Oh, and she is a drug, and the moment he touches her, he wants more of her. He pulls her closer, onto his lap, and she straddles his thighs while he kisses her, lips parting to suck at hers. She wraps her arms tighter around his neck, responding eagerly to everything he does, every flick of his tongue against her lip, every needy press of his mouth at some new angle. He kisses her a long time before he lets his hands move over her back, up and down, dragging the hem of her shirt a little ways each time to feel her skin.

She rakes her fingers through his hair, hesitating at his ears before carefully tracing the outer edge with one finger. Then she lets her hands fall to his neck and shoulders, massaging through his nightshirt.

His cock presses between her legs where it's warm. If he reaches down she will be wet, soaking her shorts and leaking onto his pants. He can feel it already. He tightens muscles to hold his hips still, to keep from grinding against her as frantically as he wants to. Every time she moves, she brushes over him, a teasing torment that makes it hard to think. God, he wants her so badly.

He finally pulls his lips from hers to trail down her neck. Now he can hear her responses, soft and breathless, inhales of surprise and exhales of pleasure. Her hands bunch the fabric of his shirt and tug at it. He sends his hands up her sides, pausing at her breasts and letting his thumbs brush the sides, just enough to feel the soft curve of the outside. She pants, her breath uneven and loud.

“Kurt,” she says. “I...I want...”

“Mm,” he murmurs against her collarbone, leaving open mouth kisses along the bone and flesh above her breasts. “Yes, _Liebchen_. Tell me what you want.”

“I want all of you.”

“You shall have me.” He kisses her lips again, her neck. “You already do.”

Kitty makes a small sound in her throat, and he slides his hands up her sides. She raises her arms, never looks away as he slips the shirt over her head. He's breathless for a moment, then kisses across her shoulders, over her chest, her lips, everywhere he can reach. Kitty touches him, tosses his nightshirt aside so she can press her naked chest to his, kiss his neck and roll her hips against his. He groans softly.

“Eager?” she says, her lips brushing over his ear.

“You have no idea,” he says.

She sits up and looks him in the eye. “Show me.”

He's dying of thirst, his heart is a hummingbird's wings, and everything between his legs is burning. He pulls her into his arms again, his hands roaming her back, her neck, her thighs, letting her see how desperately he wants her. She grows restless in his lap, hips shifting, seeking friction he intends to give her. But not yet. He wants to take his time and show her how much he loves her, not just how much he wants her. He lays his hands on her shoulders, moving down her chest deliberately. He watches her face, his cock straining at the growing arousal he sees there. He cups her breasts, her hands frozen on his chest as he thumbs her nipples, rubbing them into hard buds. She opens her mouth, then bites down on a groan, presses her knees out to feel more of him.

“Oh that's...oh...oh...more.” Her voice is needy, and his body responds, wanting more of her. He has to press his hips against her.

“So much more,” he promises.

He rubs the backs of his fingers across her nipples, teasing her with the fuzz until she whimpers. With one hand he braces her back as he lowers his mouth to her breast, sucking and licking while her fingers flex against his chest. His other hand moves over her thigh, up and down, and then inside the meager fabric of her shorts. She isn't wearing underpants. His eyes jerk up to hers, and he sees the mirth there.

“You planned this,” he says, slipping his fingers over her bare backside.

“I was hopeful.” She leans forward to nuzzle into his neck, nibbling and kissing.

His cock is so hard, throbbing to be inside her, to feel that tight, wet warmth surround him. She is already better than he'd dreamed, better than he _could_ _have_ dreamed, and they have only just begun. He wonders if he can last long enough at this pace. He will have to try.

He moves his other hand to her thigh, both moving across smooth skin he's longed to touch, and under her shorts to her hips. Her whimpers become little yelps as his thumbs brush closer and closer to her core.

“Let's get these shorts off,” he says in a hoarse voice. “Can you help me?”

She nods and he stops the motion of his hands to let her concentrate enough to phase them off. He's back to teasing her the moment they're gone, his hands roaming every inch of her naked body. Her stomach clenches tighter every time his hands come near her center.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, pausing over her hips.

“God yes, Kurt. Please, _please_ , ohh...” She falls against his shoulder when he finds her clit and begins rubbing circles, varying the pressure until he finds what makes her moan loudest, her voice rising as he pleasures her.

“Oh god, Kurt,” she breathes between squeaks of pleasure.

He feels her legs tensing, arms shaking as she grips his neck tighter. Her cries turn meaningless as she comes, her whole body trembling.

“Tell me when to stop.” He presses his face into her neck, kissing gently while he touches her, holds her.

With some difficulty she says, “Not yet. Not...not yet, oh god...”

She's soaked his pants and he can feel the wetness sliding against the fur of his leg. His hand is coated with it, and when he slips one finger into her, she's dripping wet.

He continues patiently rubbing and pressing until with an abrupt jerk she pulls her hips away. “Okay, stop. You can stop.”

He lays his hand on her hip, massaging gently while she gasps for air.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

After a brief pause, she replies, “Yeah. But... you're not done yet, are you?”

He smiles affectionately. “No, _meine Liebe_ , not even close.”

He tips her back and works his pants off, then kisses her everywhere. He fondles her breasts, making her moan. He rubs his cock against her thigh for some relief, managing none, but then she reaches for him and he almost forgets everything he's doing. Her hand on him feels better than anything, and he pauses a while to enjoy her touch. But mostly he wants to please her, has wanted this a long time.

Working down her stomach, he reaches around to cup her backside before easing her legs apart. He takes his time admiring her, running his finger over the glistening folds and telling her how beautiful she is, how tempting and how much he wants her.

Her whimpers become almost constant, her eyes shut as she gasps and writhes. He licks her, groaning his satisfaction and sets about making her come again, this time with his lips and tongue. Her hands fist in the covers, white knuckled, and her legs quiver and shake and then drop to the sides, limp like butterfly wings.

Her voice is barely there, a breath of sound. “Oh Kurt, oh Kurt, oh god Kurt.”

He sits up and waits for her to come back to him enough to ask her, “Are you ready?”

“I've wanted this for so long.” He blinks, surprised to hear her voice his own sentiments.

“So have I,” he says, and kisses her deeply before pressing the tip of his cock at her entrance. She arches her back and begs for him. Slowly, so slowly he thinks he will die, he pushes into her. She is perfectly tight, hot and wet and squeezing him perfectly. He has to pause once he is fully sheathed, for her sake and his own.

He slides out slowly, tormenting himself as her arms thrash for purchase, her mouth open as she pants. In again, still slowly, but building.

She lifts her knees and he hooks his arms around them, still moving slowly within her. She moans, and tears slip from the corners of her eyes.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No,” she replies. “Don't stop, please.”

He doesn't stop. In and out, as slowly as he can stand, he moves in her until she is panting and he is on the brink. He can't last like this, he has to move harder, faster, deeper. She's so tight, she feels so good, wetness slicking him, dripping from her body.

As he thrusts, harder and faster by degrees, he changes the angle slightly, adjusting until she gulps for air and bites down on her fist around his name. Kurt holds that position, her tremulous cries carrying him over the edge. His climax shocks him, shooting through his nerves like fire as he pours himself into her and finally drops his head to her chest. He's soaked in sweat, dripping from his hair and into his eyes. He can feel it in the fur on his back and chest.

When his cock grows soft, he withdraws and collapses beside her. She is still trembling, her legs splayed wide, tempting him still. How can he want more?

“How are you?” he asks when he can speak.

“Oh my god,” she replies, rolling over, flinging her arm across his chest. “Let's do that again. Only this time,” she says, licking her lips, “I get to taste you.”

He laughs in delirious joy. “I've no objection to that,” he replies, his throat gone dry at the thought of her mouth on his cock. His stomach clenches and his cock twitches with interest. So much for a refractory period.

She must feel it too, because she lifts her head and glances down, watching as it stiffens. “Can I?” she says, and he nods.

She reaches for him, his shaft still slick from her body, and her slim fingers close around it. She glances up. “Tell me when it's right.”

He loves the way she touches him, as if she's always known what he likes best. When she slides him into her mouth the first time, he almost comes, clenching his jaw on a growl of bliss. Her hand and her lips send his head pressing back into the pillow, and he feels himself getting close.

“Kätzchen,” he bites out, “You might not want—”

“I _want_ ,” she says, then sucks harder.

He is almost vibrating with his need to release, her lips and tongue teasing the ridge of his cock, pressing against the underside, all while her hand pumps up and down, sliding the foreskin each time. He's there, he's _there_ , one more suck, one more lick.

“Oh _Gott_ , I'm coming,” he cries as he comes in her mouth, his body shaking. His legs quiver from the intensity as she licks him clean.

He forces himself to think. “Tissues on the... on the nightstand.”

She reaches for them, spits out his seed, and crawls up his body to lie alongside him. She tilts her head up, content in his arms. Part of him still can't believe this has happened. Her smile is tantalizing, and he captures it with his lips, tasting the mix of her and him. It's perfect. He kisses her forehead.

“You should get cleaned up and dressed in case they come back.”

“Can't I sleep here with you?” she asks.

He grins a devilish smirk. “Yes, of course. But _liebchen,_ I must warn you, I cannot be quiet. And I know I will want to do this again, with you at my side all night.”

Her smile matches his for mischief.

“So what if they hear us. I'm not ashamed.”

He pulls her into his arms, feels her skin beneath his palms. “I love you.”

She stretches up to kiss him, draping one leg over his hips. He kisses her tenderly, a long time, listening to the longing sounds she makes, relishing the feel of her fingers in his fur, dragging up and down his side. He rolls slightly so she can reach behind him.

He tears his lips from hers. “I don't think we're done yet,” he says.

Kitty smiles sweetly as her hand travels down his back, stopping at his tail. She rubs across it, circles the base with her fingers. His eyes close involuntarily, and he breathes a soft moan into her neck.

“Oh Kurt,” she says, “I think you're right.”

  
  


Almost every night she comes to him, silent in the dark as she phases through the walls and door and into his bed. He stops getting dressed and waits for her naked, wondering how long the bliss will last this time, how long this arrangement will continue. Wondering if this will be the night she changes her mind. Because in spite of her words, and her expressions of love, he can't quite believe it's true, that she loves him. He waits for the moment she realizes this was only a way of getting over Pete. Kurt is, he knows, someone she trusts, and he'd never hurt her, even if she broke his heart. His mind drifts this way until she arrives, passing through the wall, clothes falling away as she reaches him. She tumbles into his arms and his mouth, her hands on his body making him want her again as badly as the first time. Like they haven't been doing this almost nightly for months.

In spite of themselves, they tell no one. Maybe the secrecy makes it more exciting. For a while, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is her body on his, around his, her words in his ear, as he brings her every pleasure he can find.

He knows every inch of her skin now, every place that sets her on fire. He knows what she sounds like when she's close and he knows how to push her over the precipice. She's learned him, too. She plays with his tail, and she loves making him come. Some nights, he thinks her goal is to leave him empty. Other nights, she lies back and lets him do what he wants to her, spreads her legs wide for him and says yes, yes, yes. It never fails to send a rush of affection to his heart, a rush of blood to his cock. Because he is more certain than ever that he's in love with her. He loves her, in his bed and out of it.

He grows tired of hiding his love, becomes more and more openly affectionate with her. She never stops him, never shies away. Always returns it. Sometimes he thinks, as he watches her face when the team is meeting, that he might simply walk across the room and kiss her, to see what they'd say. But he doesn't. And she doesn't.

And then Amanda arrives, knocking on the door and sweeping him into a passionate kiss when he answers.

Shock makes him reel from it. He can't think fast enough.

“What's the matter, lover? Didn't you miss me?”

No. He hasn't missed her at all. He wants her to leave. “Nice to see you, Amanda,” he lies.

She harrumphs and saunters in, straight to his room, where she drops her things. Kurt follows, empty and disbelieving. Kitty gives him a sad smile from her doorway and turns away at the same moment Amanda calls to him. He wants to go to Kitty, to explain, to ask her what to do, but that feels wrong. Sending Amanda away means giving up the game with Kitty. Will she still want to be with him if it's over? Is it only a game after all? He doesn't know, and he _needs_ to know, but Amanda is calling him and Kitty has shut her door. He goes inside. Amanda is waiting for him, preening in the mirror and posing.

He turns and walks away, leaving her confused and annoyed. He goes outside and sits, in the same place he once found Kitty brooding. He had to know it would all end. Hadn't he known, deep down, that it was too good to be true? Footsteps behind him, but he doesn't turn around. Kitty sits down, not touching him, but close.

“It's your call,” she says.

He turns to her. “Why do you say that?”

“She's your girlfriend and I'm...” she shrugs. “I'm just the girl you sleep with when she's not here.”

His heart breaks. Hasn't he told her every night that he loves her? “That is what you think?”

She looks away. “I...”

“Do you want me to go with her?”

She won't look at him. “Does it matter what I want?”

“Yes. Very much.”

She sighs and puts her chin on her knees. “I love you, Kurt. I want you to be happy. If Amanda makes you happy, then she's who I want for you.”

“ _You_ make me happy,” he says.

“I make you _horny_.”

He frowns, scowls at her. “That's not—that's true, but it's not everything. Don't be cruel.”

“I'm not...” she sighs and pats his hand. “I'm sorry. I wanted to give you an out. I know how you are, you never want to hurt anyone. I wanted you to know, you're free to choose.”

“But when I say I choose you, you argue.”

She doesn't reply.

He turns, suddenly enough to startle her, takes her face in his hands. “I love you. You think this is sex and nothing more, but it isn't. I _love_ you. I'd never do this if I didn't.”

Kitty stares into his golden eyes. “I love you so much, I don't know what to do sometimes. She showed up and you went with her and I...” She swallows, her eyes full of tears.

“She surprised me. I couldn't think fast enough and I wasn't sure you wanted me to tell her the truth. This game of hiding things...I think it is time for it to end.”

Tears fall from the corners of her eyes. He wipes them with his thumbs, still holding her face, cradling it like she's precious, because she is.

“Kitty, I don't want to hide what I feel for you anymore.”

“Me, either.”

“Then why...”

She smiles a little, shrugs, puts her hands over his and brings his palms to her mouth to kiss them. “It was fun.”

He leans down and kisses her, lovingly, tenderly. She embraces him, hands curling at his neck. He doesn't see Amanda approach, stop, turn back. He doesn't see or hear anything but the woman in his arms, who is pulling him down, into the grass on the side of this hill, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him.

When they go back inside, hand in hand, Amanda is gone, and the others give them odd looks but say nothing.

That night, she comes to him like usual, slides into his bed and pulls him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I'm not even sure this thing makes sense. Take it for the fluffy smut it is and enjoy.


	8. Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the events of X-Men Unlimited, Volume 1, #19, Kurt returns to face the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I could resolve this in a way that was both believable and also didn't result in Kurt and Kitty never speaking to each other again, but look. I DID. I wasn't even writing this with the intent to post it, but now that it's done and I don't hate it, you all get to read it, too. 
> 
> For folks who may not be aware of this story, here's a brief summary. Kurt is approached by Belasco while training alone. Belasco informs him that his foster sister/girlfriend Amanda is in Germany killing people and using black magic. He makes a deal with Kurt, who goes to rescue her and his foster mother Margali. As he's about to leave, Kitty and Piotr try to convince him to take them with him to help. Kurt refuses, and says he doesn't want to involve strangers in his family affairs. Both are hurt, Kitty especially, and while he looks like he might be kind of sorry, he still leaves. There is no reconciliation in the comic.
> 
> It was such a hurtful thing for him to say, and I've been wrestling with how he could come back from this, and how Kitty and Piotr could forgive him. When I finally thought of it in terms of my own best friend, and the kind of trauma she'd have to be enduring to cause her to say something like this to me, I finally realized how this had to go. Hopefully it will resonate with you, too.
> 
> Rated T

“What is wrong with you?”

Kurt turned mid-stride to see Kitty, backed up by Colossus, standing in the living room of Moira's Research Center dormitory, framed by the picture window that overlooked the cliff. Her fingers bit into the flesh of her arms, folded across her chest, and her mouth was a thin line.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, facing them. He'd only been back ten minutes, maybe less, from his latest high-stakes adventure in Limbo, saving his sister and mother. Body swapping was involved and he shuddered to think of it.

“You heard me. What's wrong with you?” Her voice was at odds with her expression, almost gentle.

“I don't...I'm hungry?” he said, tilting his head, eyes narrowed as he tried to pinpoint what exactly was on her mind.

Piotr moved to her side, and Kurt stepped back automatically. It had not been so long ago that Piotr had lost his temper and nearly killed a man. Pain rippled over Piotr's face, and he didn't come any closer. One hand closed into a fist at his side and then relaxed.

“Katya and I have business with you.” His tone was as inscrutable as Kitty's.

Kurt swallowed. “Can I get a sandwich?”

Kitty glanced up at Piotr, as if asking whether they should allow it. Then she dropped her hands to her sides wearily, ignoring the strand of hair that fell across her face.

“Yeah, you might as well.”

She threw herself into a corner of the couch with such resignation, he almost abandoned the idea of food. Then his stomach rumbled, and he decided if he was about to receive a dressing-down, he'd best have some food in his belly.

Five minutes later he returned, already digging into the sandwich and chips, to take a seat on the floor across from Kitty. She looked at him, the anger gone from her face and replaced with sadness that made him want to comfort her. Piotr was hunched over his knees on the opposite end of the couch, avoiding Kurt's gaze. The wooden coffee table between them would do no good if Piotr's temper got the better of him.

“All right,” Kurt said. “What's this about?”

“You don't know?” Kitty said. She still didn't sound angry, which scared him. He'd much rather her be angry at him if he'd done something wrong than be as hurt as she sounded. “You really don't remember?”

Kurt looked at his plate, picked up the sandwich, but didn't take a bite. He held it between his fingers, feeling the bread go soft. “I remember,” he admitted. “And I am sorry.”

Kitty glanced at Colossus again, the lines of worry still creasing her beautiful face. Kurt set the sandwich down. “Truly,” he said. “It was a thoughtless thing to say.”

“What's going on?” Kitty said. “What's wrong?”

Kurt blinked, confused at the way she kept asking that. “Nothing?”

She slid off the couch to the floor, still on the other side of the coffee table from him, and reached for his arm. She felt so far away.

“I don't believe you.”

He pulled his arm away, not harshly, but firmly, and sat up straighter. “I wouldn't lie to you, Kätzchen,” he said. “I never have, and I've no intention of doing so in the future. So I do not appreciate that.”

She curled slim fingers under her palm and crossed her arms on the table. Kurt took a bite of his sandwich.

“ _Tovarisch_ ,” Piotr said, his voice a low rumble in his massive chest. “Katya does not accuse you of lying, but of hiding—”

“I am not _hiding_ anything, either,” Kurt snapped, then expelled a breath. These were his friends, his _best_ friends, and they were clearly concerned about him. It wasn't right to be angry at them for it. “I am not hiding anything,” he repeated more calmly. “But I've been gone several days and I would like to eat and rest.”

“Yeah, you were gone for days, with no communication. No one knew where you were. You didn't even call to tell us you were on your way until you were landing.”

Kitty's eyes were wide and her mouth curved down sharply. She was pleading with him for an answer, but he had none he wished to give. “I filed a flight plan,” he said and took a bite of his sandwich. Funny, it seemed to have lost most of its flavor.

“Why are you doing this?” she said, turning her palm over on the low table. He thought she was reaching for him, but when he looked, she hadn't moved.

“Eating?”

“You're doing what you always do when something awful happens,” Kitty said. “You're pretending everything is fine.”

Kurt opened his mouth to interrupt, but she barreled ahead, not letting him.

“And I know that because you've never said anything so hurtful to either of us, _ever_. Not even when...” Her eyes flicked to Piotr and back. “...Piotr hurt Wisdom.”

Kurt chewed slowly, taking his time before responding. “As I said, Kätzchen. Piotr. It was a thoughtless thing to say. I did not mean it, and I am sorry for the pain I caused you. Of _course_ you are not strangers to me. You are my family.”

The irony of his words was not lost on him, but he was too tired and now, too annoyed, to deal with it. Another one of those quick looks passed between Kitty and Piotr.

“Please say whatever it is you are thinking,” Kurt said. “This guessing game is tiresome, and I need a nap.”

“Something is wrong with you,” Kitty replied, her voice rising slightly. “You took off without a word, called us strangers, left anyway, and now you're _acting_ like everything is fine, which you only do when _nothing_ is fine. I know you, and Piotr knows you. We've known you for years. Why won't you let us help?”

Kurt stood up with his plate. “Because _nothing is wrong_. You are mistaken, and I don't appreciate either of you insinuating that I would lie to you, or hide the truth, or pretend the truth does not exist. I am _fine_ , aside from tired, and I would appreciate being left alone now.”

He took the plate to the kitchen and as he passed through the room again, Kitty had her forehead on her arms and Piotr was speaking to her in low tones. A moment of guilt passed, and Kurt's heart made a strange, fluttering sensation in his chest. He really _was_ tired, but he'd never been able to abide hurting Kitty. A little voice popped into his head to chide him.

 _Then why did you_?

He hesitated in the doorway, torn between his need to sleep and his desire to make amends with her. Piotr, too, but especially Kitty. As he stood waffling, she lifted her face and caught sight of him across the room. She wasn't crying, but she looked forlorn.

“Kätzchen,” he said, and she raised only her eyes to him. “I _am_ sorry.” He held out his hands in a plea for leniency. “But I am also exhausted.”

“Go to bed, Kurt,” she said, and she pushed herself up from the table, phasing through the wall and leaving Piotr behind.

“Piotr?”

He stood, too. Even in his fleshly form, he reached well over six feet, his bulk imposing to anyone. “Go to bed, Kurt,” Piotr said, echoing Kitty's words. He left, too, and Kurt was left alone, just as he'd demanded.

In his bed at last, sleep eluded him. Instead, he replayed the events of the past several days, beginning with the strange summons from Belasco, and ending with Amanda choosing to remain in Limbo for an undetermined length of time. His mother, Margali, had shaken what little trust in his foster family remained. How long had she been in Amanda's body? He hoped, _prayed_ , it had not been long enough for anything untoward to happen between them. The thought made him shudder, and he rejected it. Margali would not stoop so low. He _had_ to believe that. Even worse, Kitty's face haunted him, anguished and helpless. He rolled over.

As the minutes ticked ever closer to a new day, Kurt finally drifted into a restless sleep. He woke feeling no better than when he'd laid down, achy and unsettled in his heart at leaving things unresolved with Kitty. A glance at the clock sent his face back into the pillow. It was too early to get up, too late to go back to sleep. He only lasted a few more minutes before he got up and padded to the kitchen, where lights should not have been on.

Kitty was at the table blowing on a cup of tea, her old purple robe wrapped snugly around her and her feet tucked up in the chair. He looked at the robe, wondering if it was the same one she'd had when Excalibur started, or if it was new. He spent far too much time pondering that, and realized it was because he was avoiding walking into the room.

“Hey, Kurt,” she said, but there was no joy in the greeting.

“You are up early,” he said.

“Pot's still warm if you want tea.”

He turned the electric kettle back on and fixed a cup, the silence thick as water. The wooden chair across from her, where he'd sat hundreds of times, was cold through the fabric of his pajama pants. Or maybe it was something else. Kitty's face was drawn when he looked at her, and dark shadows framed her eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, unable to help himself. “For upsetting you.”

She huffed a laugh without opening her mouth. “Yeah, you hate for people to be mad at you.”

“That's not what I meant.”

She sighed, a weary sound that made her whole body slump a little lower. “Then why don't you explain what you _did_ mean.”

He sipped his tea, still too hot, but anything was better than meeting her eyes again. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

She brushed her hair back, her voice soft when she spoke, and so gentle it pained him. “I know you didn't. But you still _did_. And that's what's got me worried.”

“Kätzchen, everything is fine,” he said, but for the first time, he didn't believe himself. “I'm fine.” He held out his hands as if to say, _see, here I am_.

“Are you? _Really_?”

“Yes, of course. Not even a bruise. Everything is settled.”

She finished her tea and set it down, swirling the last dribble in the cup as she considered her words. “I hope so. You know, I've never pushed you to tell me stuff. But damn, it hurts to know you don't trust me enough to talk to me.”

She might as well have stabbed her spoon through his heart. He fell back against the chair as if she'd punched him.

“It's not about trust.”

“No?” she said, lifting her eyes to his at last. She looked tired. More than tired, she looked weary. He wondered how much sleep she'd gotten the past few days. It didn't look like much, and the fact they were both sitting in the kitchen at a little past four in the morning made him wonder what that said about him.

“No,” he said, but it sounded like a lie. He repeated it, more firmly. “No, it's not. I trust you. I've always trusted you. It's...” What was the reason then, if it wasn't an issue of trust?

She started to get up. “It's okay, Kurt. You don't have to tell me. I just wanted you to know.”

He reached out, grabbing her wrist before she could get up, then letting go just as quickly. “I didn't realize how it felt to you. I only meant to keep what I could of my personal life separate from work.”

“Amanda was on the team.” Kitty didn't sit, but she didn't leave, either.

“That was a mistake, but even so, I've never expected the team to handle my family responsibilities.”

Kitty did sit down then, her hands still wrapped around the empty teacup. Her fingers didn't tremble, but she rubbed her thumbs over the smooth porcelain as if to soothe it. Or perhaps, to soothe herself.

“When I came back from SHIELD, you knew something was wrong.”

“ _Ja_. You were on edge, angry. Taking it out on us...”

Kitty let the words hang a moment before she continued. “I thought I could handle it on my own and figure it all out. I didn't think I needed anyone. I was wrong.”

Kurt rubbed the back of his neck. Kitty's logic was sound, but the thought of telling her what had happened made his chest tight with shame.

“This is my family, not a lover.”

Kitty stared at him, and the shame rose higher, the words meaningless. Kitty, bless her, did not remark on it. She only sighed again and sat up, pushing her chair back.

“I'm not going to fight you about this, Kurt. Just try to remember I'm on your side.”

“I know that, Kätzchen.” He felt again the sense that his words held no meaning or value, and the ache inside had consumed everything of importance within him.

Kitty patted his hand as she stood. “Okay. I'm gonna try to go back to bed. Maybe I can get an hour in.”

His body felt too heavy, torn between wanting to tell her everything, and wanting to tell her nothing, and knowing that either way, things between them would forever be changed.

Now he was alone again, the spot she'd vacated was just a chair, and his tea was cold. He wished she would come back, wished he had words that meant the right thing. He wished he knew what that right thing was. He felt his chance slipping through his fingers the longer he sat. She wouldn't bring it up again. She'd said what she wanted him to know. If he went to her now, she might still be awake and he could tell her everything. But he didn't think that was what she really wanted. She didn't want to force him to tell her things he didn't feel comfortable talking about.

Then what did she want?

He teleported to the dorm hall, intending to go back to his own room and think about it more, but Kitty's door was open, and when he approached, she was sitting on the side of her bed clutching the balled-up purple robe and staring at something he couldn't see.

“Kitty?”

She looked up, and for a fleeting instant, the pain in her face was so raw, he took an instinctive step forward. In that flickering moment, he knew what to do. He knew what she wanted from him, and he stepped into her room with a confidence he had not felt since he arrived home. He crouched in front of her and clenched a fist to keep from touching her.

“Kitty, I know I hurt you, and I—”

“Get off the floor, Kurt.”

“What?”

“Sit here, _beside_ me.”

On the edge of the bed he could see what she'd been staring at. There were photos on her nightstand, a team shot from the early days of Excalibur, another from later years, and one of just the two of them. The ache in his chest gnawed at what was left of him.

“I fear I've lost you,” he said.

“That's the most honest thing you've said since you left.” Kitty folded her hand around his and slipped her fingers between his. “But why do you think that?”

 _Because I called you a stranger, because I lied about being fine and you know it, because you think I don't trust you_.

He clutched her hand, cupping it between both of his like he could hold her there forever. His voice hitched a little when he answered. “Because I can't give you what you want. I _can't_ talk about it. Not right now.”

She freed her hand and put it over his shoulder, and he curled his fists in on themselves.

“I want to pretend it never happened,” he said.

“That bad?”

He nodded and let her tip his head onto her shoulder, closing his eyes. She put her other arm around him and stroked his hair, not saying a word. Gradually, he eased his arms around her until he was holding her, every breath containing a hint of Kitty.

“Kitty?”

She didn't move her head from his shoulder, but she turned to hear him better. “Hm?”

“I'm sorry I made you tell me what happened while you were with SHIELD. It was wrong of me to insist.”

“I told you because I wanted to,” she said. “Even though I said I didn't.”

“Still.”

“It's okay, Kurt,” she said, and then emphatically, “I _know_ you.”

He choked on a breath. Of course she knew him. He was no stranger to her.

“Thank you,” he said, and raised his head at last. His bones felt too heavy, and he put his head down almost as soon as he lifted it. “For not pushing me away. You could have, and I wouldn't blame you.”

“You're my best friend. I just wanted you to remember that.” She kissed his cheek and turned, drawing him with her up the bed to the pillow and tucking her hand under his chin.

“I remember.” He kissed her fingers and curled his tail around her leg.

“Will you remember you don't always have to be fine?”

“No promises, Kätzchen. But I'll trust you to set me right if I falter.”

Kitty gave a little squeeze and kissed his shoulder where her cheek rested. Kurt breathed out the last of his tension and closed his eyes to sleep.


End file.
